


Sackcloth and Ashes

by Markovia



Series: A Good Deed [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Knives, M/M, Violence, mention of non-con, mention of underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 20:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: Shizuo still can't control his temper. Izaya is still a liar.





	Sackcloth and Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> First of a number of one-shots in the 'A Good Deed' story-line. They will be from different points in the timeline, not particularly in order. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Shizuo knew the day would come eventually and he knew it would be bad but he didn’t realise quite how _bad_ he would feel _._ He’d been so careful around his lover. He only used a fraction of his strength and that was when Izaya himself asked for it in that filthy voice that Shizuo could not deny - _harder, faster, come on Shizu-chan!_ After what happened between them, Shizuo was averse to fighting with him, no matter how much the information broker might push his buttons. So far his self-control had been impeccable and while he knew that he wouldn’t intentionally harm Izaya anymore, so it was bound to happen by accident. The ex-bartender still had issues with his temper and on the odd occasion when he left work incensed by the criminals who plagued his day times, he would retreated to his apartment in Ikebukuro rather than heading to Izaya’s. Those foul rages blinded him to sense, he knew there was a chance that he might go blank and end up hurting the man he used to hate. Shizuo despised himself for those uncontrollable moments - it wasn’t an excuse for hurting people.

 

It was one of  _ those  _ days that it happened, around three months after they solidified their relationship as lovers. At around eight thirty in the evening he went straight home from work, fired up beyond sense due to a fight with some pimp who owed them money. When he and Tom arrived at the house, the piece of shit was pre-occupied fucking a girl who was _ clearly _ non-consenting and  _ definitely  _ underaged. Shizuo nearly tore the bastard to shreds but luckily Vorona took over from him and forced him to take the girl to the police station. He made note to thank her - that was the second time she’d stopped him from becoming a murderer. The girl had kicked up a fuss about going to the police, she shouted something about running away from her family but by that point it was mostly white noise to him. Eventually Tom appeared and assisted with the situation which allowed Shizuo to go home and try to work out the anger burning inside him. After smoking nearly a box of cigarettes and picking up a bottle of vodka to drown out his rage, he stormed through his front door to find Izaya sitting on his sofa with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. The television was on, blaring loud, though he could barely hear it over the roaring of blood through his ears. 

 

Izaya mouthed something but all Shizuo could focus on was that fucking fur-lined jacket. The information broker hadn’t worn it very much lately, opting instead for a navy peacoat that the blond thought suited him very well. The jacket -  _ that fucking jacket -  _ brought back every awful memory from the years before the dust settled. Izaya’s old, nasty laugh rang clear in his head and all he could see was the taunting smirk from the past. The man who sat in front of him wore a much different expression, confusion perhaps, as Shizuo slammed the door behind him and stomped across the living room. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Shizuo growled.  _ Izaya, getting him fired. Izaya, getting him run over and beaten up. Izaya, setting him on fire with a gleeful laugh. Izaya, ruining his fucking life over and over again.  _ In the back of his mind a forgotten chorus began to sing - kill, kill, kill!

 

“I didn’t get to see you yesterday,” Izaya replied, rolling his head to one side. “So I thought I’d surprise Shizu-chan by coming over. I brought some wine but I see you’ve already picked up something...different.”

 

Shizuo grit his teeth together and placed the bottle down onto the kitchen counter. “Get out.”

 

“What?” Izaya frowned. He settled the popcorn onto the coffee table and carefully pushed himself off the sofa. His actions were still unsteady and there was a still the slightest hint of a stammer when he was stressed or he woke from one of the nightmares that still plagued him. “I just got her-”

 

Before he could finish, the informant was yanked off the floor by his collar. The blond tugged him close to his chest, ignoring the surprised cry from the other man and the way his fingernails dug into the hand fisting his shirt. Despite his mind trying to speak sense, the monster at the forefront of his mind was all that he could focus on. 

 

“ _ Get out _ ,” he repeated, voice little more than a vicious rasp. He shook Izaya back and forth a couple of times and then threw him across the room toward the front door. 

 

The information broker’s side smacked hard against the wood and sunk down to the ground, groaning in pain as his legs gave way under the weight of his own body. Shizuo made to move towards him but halted as soon as Izaya turned his head up and met his gaze. His dark eyes were wide, not with fear but with apprehension, as if he were waiting for Shizuo to lose it completely and beat the shit out of him. The blond’s rage began to fade into coolness and what he’d done hit him all at once. 

 

“Fuck, shit,” he cursed. He moved across the room and dropped to his knees in front of Izaya. “I'm sorry, fuck - I didn't mean to-”

 

Izaya held up a hand to silence him and Shizuo saw that a familiar switchblade was held tightly between his fingers, unsheathed. He let out a sigh and a smile spread lowly across his lips. “We’ll never change entirely will we?”

 

“Fuck,” Shizuo breathed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m really sorry, flea. I didn't mean to snap-”

 

“Stop, Shizu-chan,” he ordered, flicking his knife shut so that he could tuck it back into his pocket. “I threw a glass at your head last week because you teased me about my bathroom routine.”

 

“Our relationship isn't the healthiest, is it?” the blond sighed, biting down on his bottom lip. Guilt flood his now-clear mind - hadn’t he promised that he would never harm the flea again? With an irritable grunt, he stood up and held a hand out. 

 

Izaya laughed and allowed Shizuo to pull him off the floor. “Considering we used to try and kill one another every day, I'd say we’re heading in the right direction.”

 

“We  _ really _ shouldn’t be together.”

 

“Are you an idiot, Shizu-chan?” Izaya snickered, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m the only one who can deal with you. And I suppose you’re the only one who can put up with me too.”

 

Shizuo smiled softly and pulled the informant into a careful embrace, resting his chin on the top of his dark hair. He used to hate the smell of whatever soaps and oils Izaya washed himself with but these days he found it comforting. 

 

“I'm really sorry,” he repeated, closing his eyes. “I promise it won't ha-”

 

“I wouldn't promise that if I were you,” Izaya interrupted, placing his hands around Shizuo’s waist. “Not when we both know there is no guarantee. There are things I will never be able to assure you of either.”

 

“But I’m sor-”

 

Izaya tutted and squeezed the other man’s waist tighter. “I swear if you apologise again I’ll stab you just to make you think we’re even.”

 

“You’re such a dick sometimes,” Shizuo huffed unhappily and rubbed his face further into the juncture of Izaya’s neck. “ But I ‘spose you’re right.”

 

“I’m always right,” the information broker laughed. “Now could you go and get me some comfier clothes?”

 

“Yeah - you staying?” Shizuo replied, finally pulling away from the hug. 

 

“Mmhm.”

 

The blond nodded and headed out of the living room toward the bedroom. Izaya watched him closely until he was out of sight, then raised a hand and clapped it over his mouth. He let out a wheezy breath into his palm and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. An unpleasant tightening sensation occurred in his stomach and for a moment he thought he might throw up.  _ Shizuo, throwing him against a garbage dumpster. Shizuo, glaring up at him through the fire. Shizuo, raising his hand to deliver the final blow.  _ He let the ignored panic hit him for just a few seconds then he dropped back onto the sofa and forced himself to relax, fingers tightly clenching the cushions beneath him. Slowly, his breathing calmed and the awful memories were replaced by more recent, pleasant moments. 

 

“You okay, flea?” 

 

Izaya looked up to see Shizuo standing in the doorway, holding a bundle of material. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt. The sight of him calmed the informant somewhat - he looked so at ease, almost comfortable. Izaya remembered a time when  _ comfortable  _ wasn’t a situation that could happen between the two of them even in his wildest imagination. He wasn’t sure if things would ever be entirely settled but then again, neither of them were satisfied by a quiet, peaceful life. Izaya smiled at Shizuo and raised a hand, wanting to feel the other’s fingers laced through his own. The blond was still looking at him with a dour gaze, clearly heavy with the feeling of guilt. Izaya wondered if the monster had forgotten all the awful things he’d done to him so quickly. He certainly wouldn’t be able to forget what Shizuo had done all that easily, thus it was easier to tell a lie. Just a white lie, he thought, nothing serious. 

 

“Better than ever, Shizu-chan.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
